There have been a number of times in my life when I have made a judgment about something and then later found that I completely changed my mind.  This is not an unprecedented occurrence, of course, but it has made a real impression when the judgment was about something musical and important to me.

I find that this has happened most often when I had great anticipation about something and then, after the event, found myself initially disappointed in some way.   One of the first times I remember this was when I saw the first Harry Potter movie.

I was a huge fan of the books, and the anticipation around the first movie was pretty intense.  Would they completely mess it up?  (Something similar is presently swirling around the new Harry Potter theme park at Universal in Orlando.)

After seeing the movie, I remember that my initial reaction to the music soundtrack composed by John Williams was that it sounded just like all his other movie music.  Somehow I was expecting something so special that when I heard the familiar trademark elements of a John Williams score I was disappointed.

Later, however, upon listening to the soundtrack at home on my stereo I found there was much about it to appreciate.  I started to note how the choice of melodies and instruments seemed somehow perfectly matched to the material.  And finally, after repeated listening, I became completely obsessed with the music and started to number it among my very favorites!  This was quite a turnaround!

Of course, I made a wrong judgment at the moment when the lights came up in the theater.  My mood or mindset just wasn’t right to give a true evaluation.  Or possibly it really did grow on me.

More recently I had a repeat of this experience with the movie “Avatar.”  I went into the first viewing a bit skeptical of all the hype, but left the theater amazed by the experience.  And yet I remember having discussions with friends that I didn’t remember any of the music.  It seemed odd that there was no sweeping “ET” type melody to carry home with me.

Eventually I became completely obsessed with all things “Avatar,” seeing the movie over and over, playing with my Banshee toy at home while working, and listening to the soundtrack over and over.  I have since decided that the movie is well served by a soundtrack that doesn’t overpower.  The visuals are the king of this empire, and the music seems to heighten the action at just the right moments.

I now really appreciate the choices of sounds, the interesting mix of electronics and native instruments, and the very nice chordal melodies that serve the story so well.

So I now try to remember that first impressions, or at least “initial judgments” can sometimes definitely be wrong.  I try not to jump up on too many soapboxes too quickly.  Mature thinking requires some thought, some time, and the ability to decide that you were wrong!  My apologies to Mr. Williams and Mr. Horner.  Thanks for writing some of my favorite music!

It’s always easy to tell if the performers on the field like their show.  It seems to be in every cell of their bodies, in their very breath, and certainly in their energy level.  If a group of kids hates their show, we are all sure to hate it too.

But conversely, I have loved watching some really terrible shows simply because the performers were loving what they were doing.  As stupid as some show design problems might be, this can be overcome (to some degree, anyway) by the hard work and joy of the performers.  If their heart is in it, my heart will go out to them.

Recently I had the great pleasure of seeing the touring company of “In The Heights.”  It has been a long time since I’ve seen an entire cast of performers having such a great time.  They were all obviously enjoying being in this show.  The energy level coming from the stage was amazing and quite contagious.  They were working hard, and doing so because they loved what they were doing.

This hard work by the performers will never go unnoticed.  Everyone in the audience can tell that there is joy coming from the stage.  I had two different people describe “In the Heights” as “energetic.”  And it certainly was.

I have had other terrific experiences where the cast performed with energy and joy.  The first time I saw “Mama Mia” was a special experience.    The dance production at the end of the First Act just about knocked me out of my seat.  I have since seen the show two other times when the cast was more pedestrian in their approach, much to my disappointment, but this first time will always stay with me.  Everyone was working hard and putting full effort into the performance, and this energy created a moment I’ll remember forever.

“Blast” was a production with a special connection for me.  The first time I saw this show, the cast finished “Medea,” the lights came up, and I was physically unable to move my body.  I sat there in shock.

Lee and I had the great good fortune to have premium 4th row Center seats for “Wicked” on Broadway.  At the end of Act One when Elphaba finishes “Defying Gravity” I remember that the lights came up and Lee looked at me and asked “Are you okay?”

The members of our performing groups can get lazy, or take for granted what they are doing.  It’s our job to remind them of their responsibility to the audience, to the group they are part of, and to themselves.  The energy and effort, the sheer joy of a performance, really DOES matter.  None of us should settle for anything less than our best.

George Zingali was one of the true geniuses of the visual design world.  He many times over revolutionized the look of marching band, drum corps, and winter guard.

I have had the privilege of “encountering” George three times in my life.  This is the story of the second time.

George wrote the drill for the Star of Indiana Drum and Bugle Corps when it premiered in 1985.  The show was a salute to Walt Disney, which was a smart attempt to gain immediate acceptance in the activity by performing music which also had a world-wide acceptance and appreciation.

I was sitting in stands at a show during the summer of 1985, and just before Star took the field George suddenly appeared and sat down right next to me!  He was with the staff and had run up into the stands to watch the show.

Watching the show while sitting next to it’s creative genius was a memorable experience.  This was true not only because of simply who he was, but because of the way he watched the show.

For my part, I have a tendency to watch any of my shows with a very critical eye, noting every problem or imperfection.  But I learned a lesson that day sitting next to George.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone enjoy watching a show more!

He clapped, he laughed, he “oohed” and “aahed” along with the rest of us.   He was enjoying the fruits of his labor without judgement or anxiety.

At one point in the show, the corps takes 8 steps forward in a company front, and then suddenly stops and starts backward in reverse.  I remember hooting and clapping, and George turning to me and saying “So you liked that, huh” with a smile on his face!  At another point, he jumps up, points to the field, and says “Look, a star!”  He was sharing a hidden “star” reference with all of us.  It was special.

Though I don’t always succeed,  I try to remember to take time to just relax and enjoy watching the shows I have helped to create.  Thanks, George, for that life lesson, and for sharing your genius with all of us.